Making it slow

If I were still on the market, nookin' for nub in all the wrong places, striking out, getting rejected, becoming convinced that I would find myself lonely and afraid at the age of 65 eating catfood from the can while watching "Home Improvement" reruns, a story like this would have depressed me.

Mary Kate Graham's boyfriend, Gary Ruvolo, is fond of recounting every detail of their first date 13 years ago and each candlelight anniversary dinner since. "God help me," Ms. Graham said, rolling her eyes with affectionate indulgence.

Ms. Graham and Mr. Ruvolo, both 32, accept each other's foibles with tenderness. The one time their romance was in trouble — a girl "was spending too much time at Gary's house, and I didn't like it," Ms. Graham said — they went to couples' counseling and worked it out.

Their next hurdle will be moving from their family homes, both in Brooklyn, to a group residence. There, for the first time, Ms. Graham, who is mentally retarded, and Mr. Ruvolo, who has Down syndrome, will be permitted to spend time together in private.

Now why would such a heartwarming tell have depressed Single Ken? To quote a single coworker of mine, "Man, even the tards are getting more than me. ... Goofy little fuckers." (It was a woman who said that, by the way.)

I was really intrigued by this paragraph.

The pair were coached in dating, romance and physical intimacy by a social service agency at the cutting edge of a new movement to promote healthy sexuality for the seven million Americans with mental retardation and related disabilities.

Who's doing this coaching? More importantly, why aren't they selling their services on Nerve and Match. I certainly could have used some help. And if they can teach the mentally retarded to date, surely there's some hope for the Shirtless Guido or the Golddigger, the Dungeons & Dragon Guy or the Cat Lady.

UPDATE: This guy's got another one of his polls up about the subject. (Heh, that sounds dirty)